


Somebody Else

by Semi_Weird_Shipper



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cheating, Comfort Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Loss of Trust, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, Oral Sex, Protection, Public Display of Affection, Realization, Regret, Size Kink, Slash, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, The Transformers: Lost Light, Unrequited Love, rare pair hell, slightly angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-15 08:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_Weird_Shipper/pseuds/Semi_Weird_Shipper
Summary: Written for my lovely friend TheBestDayEver who wanted Overlord and Optimus Prime doing some loving clankity clank.Summary: how much simpler can it be? Megatron’s wrong and cheats on Optimus, and Optimus has to confront him about it. They cry, boo-hoo, Swerve tries to help but it ends up being a disaster either way. Well... A disaster for Megatron anyway.





	Somebody Else

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheBestDayEver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBestDayEver/gifts).



> Welcome to the boat of Rare Pair Hell where today our main course of action will be Overlord x Optimus Prime. If you DON'T LIKE that pairing then you may exit the boat or jump overboard, there are life jackets in the tags and floaties in the description.
> 
> Written for TheBestDayEver who deserves a nice story concerning her very angsty fic Decepticon Inmates. She wanted a story with consensual Optimus and Overlord so....

~[Here's the music,](https://youtu.be/UxVRhrfsleQ) and begin~

As Megatron pushed Rodimus against the wall, gentle and yet so firm, he rained kisses all over his face whilst his servos thoroughly explored every inch of his body. The prime shivering in delight before him. It was beautiful in a way that was ugly because of the truth behind it.

But Megatron ignored the guilty rage in his spark as if it were another bad memory that was trying to haunt him. Simply continuing his attentions; showering the red and orange prime with affection. It was a horrible expression to use and to have to hide away, like a sparkling who found a toy they wanted to keep but had strict carriers to hide it from.

It was wrong. But it just felt too good, too right, too wonderfully different to want to do the responsible thing for.

"Megatron?" Rodimus tilted his helm back, his optics darkened to deep lapis as arousal worked through every living fiber of his circuits. He gripped the bigger mech by the shoulders and frowned, "How much longer?"

Megatron felt his spark trying to buckle up again, and he shifted on his peds as if the mere weight would stop the ping. He continued to stare at the mech before him, his optics slanted inwardly as he thought about how torn he was. "I am still uncertain," he admitted, gazing away in a moment of self pity.

Rodimus lifted his servo up, cupped the x-warlord's cheek and made him look back down at him. "You're not as old as Ultra Magnus, you know, you don't have to keep thinking about it," it was meant to be a lighthearted joke, but Rodimus couldn't keep the seriousness and impatience from leaking into his tone.

"The difficulty of my decision is anything but tranquil, Rodimus, I cannot simply be straightforward about this," Megatron's voice spoke back in its own silent way.

He was ready and Rodimus was ready. But...

"I want to ask you a few questions," Rodimus tilted his head to the side and pulled Megatron closer by the hips, smile fake yet promising.

"Rodimus, you know that I do not appreciate being questioned about him-"

"Eh-eh, me first," Rodimus raised his digit up to the grey mech's lips and shushed him.

For the sake of not suffering more of the young Prime's lecturing wrath, Megatron stilled and nodded.

"Now..." Rodimus lowered his servo and asked, "How long have you been with him?"

"Two years," Megatron admitted in a slightly hesitant voice.

"Two years," Rodimus repeated with a hint of both disbelief and ridiculousness in his tone, "And has he ever even given you one decent fragging?"

Megatron looked down, grinding his teeth at such a selfish, immature topic. He didn't want to answer because he knew, "Optimus is... not yet ready. I understand."

"I don't," Rodimus said rather harshly, "If you ask me, it sounds pretty selfish; Him making you wait on something as great as interfacing, and for two years! That's crazy! Don't you think that, by now, he would trust you enough to gear up and... let you spike him already?"

"He is inexperienced," Megatron's rough demeanor alternated between vanilla and sour, his optics looking anywhere and at anything that wasn't the horrid, awful truth. "If he did not trust me, then we would not be together."

"Still..." Rodimus gave off his own guilty look and admitted, "He's trusting you not to do this-this right here, Megs, and I know-I know, it's hard for you to contemplate this, but face it, you can't keep pretending and you can't keep lying; Not to Optimus and not to yourself. You deserve better."

"I know," Megatron breathed, "He cannot be what I need him to be, and I am keeping this from him. Your assumption is correct. I need to tell him."

"I'm glad you finally see the light," Rodimus huffed and pulled the mech closer down by the neck, smirking before their lips met, "Besides, how's his frame any better than mine?"

Megatron smirked back and mumbled, "It's not..."

Then their lips met.

~^-^~

On the other side of the door, Optimus Prime quietly stepped away from the wall and stared down at the knob trembling in his shaky servo. He moved away from it and lifted his shaking digits up, inspecting them calmly like there was some new type of virus plaguing him from the inside-out.

His spark was beating none too gently inside his chassis, the thumping feeling more like giant metal spikes poking out through his inner casing. The hollowness of his body was like an empty present box; disappointed, sad, and hurt.

Optimus contained it all in like a beast in a cage, a sad, lonely, mutilated beast, and it roared in agony. His processor demanding both a confession and redemption, but yet the emptiness he felt was so much stronger.

The red and blue prime forcefully pulled himself away from the door, not wanting to hear the furthering foreplay from the other side, and he walked away down the hall. His helm down. Optimus looked as if he had just been hung. He walked in such a way that seemed as if he were dragging himself. His steps both heavy and slow.

Once he was outside of his and Megatron’s home, Optimus looked up at the starry sky and midnight moons. The world so peacefully divided and yet so cruelly full of painful truths that it made life feel as if it weren't worth living.

He had come home early today. Ultra Magnus had told Optimus to go home early since tomorrow was scheduled for a ceremony for the decepticons who had chosen the autobot path. And so the prime did.

But when he got home... It was not what he expected and it was beyond anything he wanted to believe was happening.

Truth be told: Optimus had actually been anticipating this. It was two months ago after Megatron had gotten somewhat angry at him for turning down his foreplay because he wasn't ready- every night after that, Megatron would leave and be gone for hours and hours at a time. Sometimes even days. And deep down, buried underneath all the thoughts and ideas that were unimportant, that didn't matter, Optimus knew that something was wrong.

He just didn't want it to be true. He didn't want it to be this way. And now his spark was crumbling apart in betrayal and despair, the words from his lover tearing him apart and making him feel like earth's muddy grounds.

Even the restored, shiny planes of Cybertron couldn't reinstall the lost happiness and content that was once overriding Optimus's spark. And now the sharper, more invisible things were bothering him to the point he wanted to just dissappear.

That's it. He just wanted to disappear. His naive little self; So foolish to believe that Megatron actually loved him, that he was actually a good mech for him, that this whole thing was genuine and that he was nothing but a fool to think it all true.

Optimus blinked and looked back up at the stars. He needed to talk with Megatron about this because honestly, he didn't think that Megatron would tell him himself, and he couldn't stand being lied to.

No matter how badly he wanted to pretend that what he saw and what he had heard was all just fake, a simple scheme of his processor playing tricks on him, he couldn't ignore this. This was too much. He had to do something.

So.... 

Later that night as Megatron was walking around, checking his home out and seeing where his beloved was, he soon became questionable once he spotted Optimus standing outside all by himself. The prime was looking up at the dark, starry sky, his fist clenched and body braced as if he were expecting a fight. It was... strange.

Megatron opened the door and stepped outside, staring at the backside of the prime and waiting for him to possibly turn around. "Optimus?" he asked, taking a few steps closer.

Megatron watched as Optimus turned his helm back, his blue optics cold and full of an emotion he had only recognized from battle or when a close comrade had died. And it immediately worried his spark. "Optimus, are you alright?"

Of course the pain, both angry and sad, was overpowering Optimus who couldn't keep his facade from faltering. Whenever he tried to pretend like it didn't bother him, he ended up looking like this; dead and cold and sick. Utterly sick. But when Megatron’s supposedly kind and caring appearance came around, his spark seemed to sob out in despair and a frown heavier than Primus itself hung down from his lips.

He looked at Megatron for a split second before quickly looking away, his fists aching as his digits dug into his palms. His spark screaming out in one way as his processor screamed out in another.

And when Megatron appeared right beside him, Optimus sucked it all back in within milli-seconds, his fists unclenching and his posture relaxing. He pushed it all away as he managed the strength to look up into those bright red optics.

But he quickly had to look away.

"The ceremony is tomorrow," Optimus informed, placing a servo on the rail to the fence and staring back out at the metal field before them, unable to look at Megatron, "Will you be attending?"

Megatron, a little confused by the prime's off attitude, stood next to him and peered out at the landscape as well. "I had not entirely planned on going," he said, his voice hiding in the lies and darknesses.

"And I had not expected you to," Optimus admitted rather bluntly, his optics squinting in demise for he knew exactly why it was that Megatron was not going.

And this made the grey mech even more questionable. "Is that so?" Megatron was, in a way, shocked that Optimus was being so... he didn't know... moody, he guessed? "And what has led you to believe that, Optimus Prime?"

Optimus blinked, waiting a moment as the answer settled like venom on his glossa, and then slowly he turned his helm up and said it softly, "Because I know that you would rather spend time with Rodimus."

The sudden enlargement of Megatron's optics didn't go unnoticed by Optimus who looked away after the truth settled in even further.

"Optimus... How...?"

"Megatron," This was hard for him as well. Optimus didn't want to say anything, he wanted to forget. He wanted to just close his mouth and pretend like all of this was fake, that none of this had ever happened... But he couldn't. "I believe an arrangement is in order..."

Optimus couldn't help but to pause, as if every painful word he spoke was just an allusion of acid coursing through his energon lines, rattling his emotions and burning his internals.

"Because I cannot be what you need me to be," Optimus gripped the fence and clenched his optics shut so tightly that his metal lenses creaked, and he opened them back up with the same amount of force, "And I want nothing more than for you to be happy... And..."

Optimus didn't want to, but he looked at Megatron, seeing his albeit shocked and flustered expression, and it was disgusting. As if he was genuinely panicked or upset by what was happening.

"And if Rodimus-or somebody else- can bring you that happiness, then I am willing to accept the terms and... Let you be," Optimus pulled his aching fists away from the fence and stepped back, giving the starry night one more hard stare before turning away to leave.

Megatron’s silence and unwavered stance broke the final pieces of Optimus's spark. He didn't move out to grab him, apologize to him, praise him or embrace him. He just... Let him go.

As if everything had been all for not.

* * *

 

 

A week later Optimus was sitting at Swerve's bar, a little cube of regular high grade at his side as he listened to the endless chattering of the minibot as he kept trying to talk him into finding another mech. It was flattering to say the least, and thoughtful of the minibot to have cared so much about his independence after he found out about him and Megatron splitting up.

"Maybe Trailbreaker?" Swerve said whilst hovering over the bar counter, looking over at a group of conversing autobots, "He's pretty funny! I talked to him yesterday; he said that he likes to take things slow and that he's really good at making his partners comfortable when it comes to berth time!"

"Swerve..."

"And he doesn't work much so he'll be with you constantly- or at least when you're not working- uhh... I forgot, how long do you work again?" Swerve scratched his helm and looked at the prime.

"Swerve, please," Optimus said calmly, "Although I appreciate your concern in helping me find a suitable partner, I need remind you that it has only been a few orbital cycles since I and Megatron departed... I merely need time right now- not another partner."

Swerve looked at him and pouted, sliding back into a chair and fiddling with his servos, "I know, Oppy, but I just feel so bad for you! I mean, look at everyone else around here; they're happy! I can't stand seeing you so upset... I wanna help."

"And I appreciate that gesture greatly, Swerve," Optimus put on a small smile for the minibot and hummed, "I'm not as unhappy as I may appear, and I have you to be thankful for."

Swerve's smile wobbled and he grinned at the prime, feeling his cheeks turning a small blue. "I'm glad I could help," he said cheerfully, getting ready to go take orders, "And if you need any more advice, I'm always here, but of course, you know that! Haha, cya Oppy!"

Optimus watched as the sweet little minibot skipped away in the direction of Tailgate and Cyclonus. His smile fading.

Look at them... So happy, so content, so relaxed and compliant. Cyclonus sitting with his arm wrapped tightly around the blue and white minibot comfortably sitting in his lap, laughing and enjoying every little thing that mattered. It was wonderful.

Optimus wished he could have the same.

He grabbed his energon cube but did not take a drink, merely watching the glowing blue liquid as it shined in its transparent container. He wasn’t a big drinker, in fact, he had never drank more than half a cube of high grade before, and he had barely taken a sip out of the cube he had now. But with all the pain he was currently feeling, he was tempted to do just about anything.

"That cubes not gonna drink itself, you know," said a deep, rumbly voice that sent near invisible chills racing down Optimus's spinal cords.

The prime looked up at the newcomer and raised an optic ridge as he literally had to crane his neck all the way back just to see the optics of the mech. And, Primus, was he big! It was like peering up at a skyscraper. Optimus blinked once and lowered his helm to not seem rude.

"I do not have a large history of drinking high grade," he said kindly, shaking his helm at his cube.

"Well that's a first," The big blue mech said while slipping into the seat beside the prime, "Most mecha don't usually come into the bar unless it's specifically for high grade. So, why are you here?"

Optimus noted that the mech's mass and piercing size took up a lot of space, and he politely scooted over to make room. To answer his question, he looked up into his candy red optics and swirled his cube around, "My shift had ended and I... had no other occupations to attend."

"All alone, huh?" the blue mech stared back at Optimus with these intense red optics that seemed so devious, so malicious, so full of cruelty and corruption, and yet sinful delight and... Something very particular.

It was almost enough to make Optimus gape. He nodded to answer the other mech's question, his voice lost in the wonder of intimidation.

"Hmm," Overlord hummed and looked over at the bartender, nodding and saying, "Me too."

Optimus felt his spark twinge in this strange yet hopeful way as he heard Swerve saying something about making a drink. "Are none of your companions here to accompany you?" he asked, his spark inflating with remorse and empathy.

"Well, I never said they weren't," Overlord said in a drawn out voice as he tilted his helm from side to side, "I do have friends but I'd rather not entertain myself around them right now."

Optimus felt his core bubbling when those optics rested upon his form again, this time much more focused and concentrated.

"Sometimes it's nice to meet somebody new," Overlord smirked.

"Here you go!" Swerve sat the high grade energon cube down in front of the large mech and "secretly" gave Optimus a thumbs up for good luck on his way back to his own business.

It took every effort for Optimus not to roll his optics, but he found himself becoming a little interested in the new mech before him. "What is your name?" he asked courtly, lifting his own cube up to take a drink.

"Overlord," the blue mech said, taking a drink and sighing before giving the smaller bot a little smile, "And you?"

"Optimus Prime," Optimus almost stuttered, taking another drink to calm his suddenly riled up nerves. Primus, what's gotten into him? Why was he internally trembling so hard?

"Optimus Prime," Overlord whispered back, his optics softening as if the name tasted as sweet as the high grade he was sipping on, "Beautiful."

Optimus felt his optics widen and his spark flutter uncontrollably inside his chassis, and he took yet another drink to calm himself. "Thank you," he almost didn't know what to say, his throat becoming so dry.

Overlord hummed, staring at the prime with such calm deepness that it was impossible to think about how he could be concentrating like that, and he brought the drink up to his lips. "So tell me..." He tilted his helm, optics squinting, "Why are you really here?"

* * *

 

Overlord pushed Optimus up against the door to his quarters, ravishing his mouth with intense, passionate kisses and bringing his legs up around his thick waist. Keeping him held in place as he licked over his sweet silver blue lips and pushing inside, feeling and listening to the ever so arousing moans from within.

Optimus had given in completely. Two drinks and a few drunk confessions led him here, to this moment, to this stranger who was now ravishing him like some rare treat against the wall. And yet, in just the small amount of time he knew him, it felt like Optimus had known Overlord for forever, it felt like nothing mattered, that he could say anything and Overlord wouldn't and would care.

The prime's optics rolled back as that glossa steadily pushed into his mouth and his taste was overcome by high-grade and something so diabolically unique that it burned in a wonderfully pleasant way in and all throughout his writhing body. He moaned and tried gripping that strong neck harder, his processor roaring with fury, hurt, desire and a viscous longing.

And it wasn't just any touch-need longing. It was a possessive longing. A longing where he wanted to be possessed, desired, touched, needed, held and ravished into a sore puddle of restored emotion and depressing reassurances.

A longing to feel like he was the only thing that somebody wanted to love, to kiss, to hold and to talk to.

Optimus reached up, one servo moving up behind the decepticon's helm to deepen the kiss of liquid fire and obsession. This kiss far more intense than any he had had with Megatron. But he didn't care about that anymore.

It was happening now and that was all that mattered.

Overlord hummed appreciatively, feeling the prime push and pull into him with such hot need; his interface panel had never felt more swelteringly uncomfortable. He had never had a partner who was big enough to be practically and completely consumed by his presence, but Optimus proved to be both size appropriate and willing. And that was enough.

"Let's take this inside," Overlord gave Optimus's addictive lips a wet love bite before reaching for the access code. He smirked at the prime's look of exhaustion and longing, opening the door and carrying him inside.

Optimus kept holding onto the bigger mech, never wanting to let go, his processor shot down of all logical and rational thoughts. He didn't want to let go for it would remind him of that horrible rejection that he had felt with Megatron, and he never wanted to feel that again.

So he held onto Overlord, as if he were a lifeline that would save him from experiencing the sheer cruelty of this world.

And when Overlord sat him down on the berth, Optimus pulled him down on top of him, wanting, needing, demanding that ongoing touch to continue and stay forever. The big blue mech chuckled and, instead of going in for another kiss, leaned down and licked Optimus's neck cables, taking them in between his plump lips and squeezing.

Optimus huffed and moaned, so emotionally needy and craving the attention. His optics clenching shut as he pulled on the con's helm, wanting nothing more than for him to continue and never stop.

"Look at you," Overlord chuckled softly while moving to the other side of the mech's sensitive throat, gently kissing at cables and breathing warm exhaust against them, "So needy, so ready. Beautiful... Tell me, Optimus, do you want it rough, or do you want it gentle?"

The seductive whisper had Optimus shuddering and he opened his optics, panting as he looked down at the preoccupied mech nicking at his neck. "I understand that your reputation leads you to want to be rather... rough, but please, for the sake of this being my first time, be... Be gentle?"

"Why of course," Overlord's big servos moved over the expanse of the Prime's gorgeously trembling body, "Tell me what else you desire; I want to give you everything that selfish bastard didn’t."

Optimus shuddered again and kept from mewling as those lips sucked on the edge of his quaking chassis. Let's see... There were so many things that he had wanted! Hand jobs, oral fixations, heavy kissing and all the major stuff like that. But he also liked the smaller things like his antennas being rubbed- he had always wanted to know what it would feel like to have somebody suck on them...- his spark being exposed, plugged in, lubricant system sharing and electrical bonding.

"That feels... nice," Optimus whispered at the end when Overlord licked between a seam on his chassis, the vibrations of his hum making him silently gasp.

Overlord smirked and rubbed the prime's chest tenderly, admiringly. "Where else does it feel _nice_?" he asked rather maliciously, but his tone was more gentle playfulness than anything.

"I..." Optimus swallowed down a heavy lump, suddenly feeling very embarrassed that Megatron never did anything like this with him, "I don't know..."

Overlord kissed a little lower and made a disappointed sigh. "I just don't believe it," he mumbled, one large servo wandering up the side of the mech's heated body, "How could anyone not want to explore you as I am?"

Optimus did gasp when Overlord rubbed one of his antennas between his digits, the touch sending a hungry amount of electricity running down through his body. He arched faintly and gasped again when the con squeezed around the sensitive appendage.

"Finials," Overlord mumbled in amusement along with a pleased sigh, watching the sweet blush covering Optimus's face grow, "Always a sinful trait to be had."

Optimus leaned back into the touch and jerked when a large servo suddenly palmed at his distressed interface panel. He opened his optics and looked up at Overlord as he gave him a look. Oh, and it was such a look, a look that promised pleasure, delight and so much more than anything he had ever gotten.

Optimus nodded and allowed his interface panel to slowly slide back, his erect spike popping out and his valve bare. He took in a calming intake, not ever had been touched down there, and breathed out just as calmly when he felt a digit press against him.

"So wet," Overlord whispered and gave Optimus a small kiss against his cheek, "You've been wanting this for so long, Optimus Prime. Why did you ever deny yourself?"

 _Because he was afraid._ Optimus didn't say. Because he was worried about rushing and believed that a true loving partner would be patient enough to grant him pleasure whenever he was ready. But Megatron wasn't patient. He had wasted his time, and now Optimus felt close to a spent good.

If for just one night he could open up, let himself be taken and ravished apart, then he thought that he may never have to face that rejection again. No more cold shoulders and excuses, no more hateful stares and angry growls.

He would be free.

Overlord didn't pressure the answer out of the prime, and instead, he went for his valve. Still massaging his finials, he breathed against the beautiful silver and blue valve, his optics admiring the rather impressive spike before him. All untouched and his. All his.

Overlord huffed and leaned in, his glossa slipping out to run along the inner walls of the mesh folds. Smirking when he felt smaller servos immediately gripping onto his helm. He hummed, the lovely, divine taste of the worked up autobot giving him a rush of lust and desire.

Optimus gasped, his optics clenching shut as he felt that glossa slowly sliding through his valve, thoroughly as if to memorize every texture, every crease, every microfiber he possessed. And it felt blissful. He arched when the warm wetness circled his anterior node, making him tremble in both anticipation and thrill.

Overlord moved his servos down to bring the prime's hips further against his mouth, seeing as how Optimus was clearly inexperienced and didn't know what to do. It was still beautiful. He licked in between his folds and sucked on them before ravishing his anterior node until the bot was arching uncontrollably.

"Overlord..." Optimus moaned and pressed his servo on the back of the con's helm, encouraging him to continue. Pleasure streaked up his back causing him to jolt as he clenched his teeth in a moment of consumed ecstasy, "Overlord... Ah!"

Overlord languidly trailed his glossa through the shiny wet folds, licking up the sweet lubricants and bringing his servo up to palm at Optimus's spike. He gave his anterior node a little suckle before pushing his glossa into his tight entrance, Optimus bucking into his mouth and gaping.

Optimus kept one servo on the back of the con's helm while holding his face with the other, his processor so drunk and overwhelmed with pleasure that he didn't know what to do. It was almost too much. The glossa mapping out his port and valve, his spike being stroked and squeezed by that large servo.

"Overlord..." Optimus huffed and squirmed, his legs aching as they tried to stay spread but it was just so hard, "Please~"

Overlord hummed and pulled away, his face mostly covered in Optimus's lubricants and he shamelessly wore it with pride. It made the bot shiver. "Yes, Optimus?"

"Please," Optimus panicked, not knowing what to say. Primus, no wonder Megatron cheated on him. He couldn't form any basic intelligence when it came to getting just his valve eatin' out. "Please... Continue," he made a humiliated face and turned away.

"With pleasure, but first," Overlord's voice was slick and smooth until he reached up and tilted the Prime's helm back forward, "I want you to look at me... That's it, look at me and never stop. Never look away."

Optimus was taken back by the command, but he was more turned on by the talented mouth returning to his valve and sending pleasurable trembles through him. His thighs began to shake and he gripped Overlord's servos as he buried his face between his legs. Those red optics staring straight into his own.

"Ahh-mmh!" Optimus's optics stung as he tried to keep them open, his focus on the con's optics distracted by the pleasure running through his frame. He panted and gasped and moaned. "Overlord, I... I can't-ah."

"Release for me, Optimus," Overlord mumbled, his large servo pumping Optimus's spike whilst his mouth ravished his virgin port.

"O-Overlord!"

Optimus clenched his optics shut and opened them back up wide as he overloaded heavily, a sudden rush of extreme pleasure rushing through him harder and faster than he had ever felt before. He shook and jerked as his valve convulsed and his spike spirted transfluid all over his chassis and in Overlord's servos. His processor roaring with overwhelming emotions as everything just seemed to zone out in the moment of the sheer and intense shock of pleasure.

Then it started to settle down.

Optimus laid there panting and groaning as his tired frame relaxed, his chest feeling tight and overheated.

Overlord moved up from between the quivering thighs and looked down at the puddle of confined bliss before him. Smiling at his work. "Well...?" he whispered, his voice rather low as he moved down closer to the prime, "Did that feel... _nice?"_

Optimus's only rational answer was, "Yes... yes it was... very nice."

Overlord hummed his satisfied and pleased hum, giving the prime another rub on his antenna while probing at his valve entrance. "Good... because I'm not done with you."

* * *

 

Swerve had told Megatron the "wonderful" news a little later than he'd liked to have been told. Whilst everyone else was thrilled and excited that him and Optimus were now finally happy, he just couldn't get over the facts. He was too late.

After a while, being with Rodimus, Megatron had come to learn just how annoying and irresponsible the orange prime really was. And it wasn't just an act or jealousy. Rodimus was genuinely that way; pushy, frustrating, talkative and sadly embarrassing.

Megatron found himself wanting- no, _needing_ \- some personal space. Because with Rodimus it felt like having a domestic feline constantly attached to him, claws digging into his armor in this painfully irritating way, and always demanding attention. Never once could he get any space.

Behind the scenes, Megatron had planned to find Optimus, to talk to him, to apologize and beg him for another chance. He would kneel down, silently apologize to those silently hurt optics and grasp his servo, pressing his helm to it while praising him. He couldn't take it anymore.

He needed Optimus back.

But the words Swerve spoke to him were true. True as the universe itself. Optimus had found somebody else.

Megatron stared from across the bar, dumbfounded and utterly drowning in regret as he stared at the sight. Optimus sitting at the head of the bar, a big blue arm wrapped tightly around his waist with absolute comfort and reassurance, and his servo clasped around a random cube of high-grade energon. Overlord beside him.

The prime looking back up at the large decepticon and smiling a smile Megatron had never seen before, and he watched closely as Optimus leaned into the large mech. So comfortable, so easy. It was like they had always known each other and yet were closer together in one week than Megatron was with Optimus in two years.

It was something that made him flustered, made him furious, made him jealous and stewing with immediate disregret.

Optimus with somebody else, happy, content and comfortable.

Megatron had always loathed Overlord for everything he was and everything he had done, and now he hated him just a little bit more. Because he was Optimus's somebody else.


End file.
